


perfect premiere

by princessoftheworlds



Series: it's (not) all an act [4]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: Jack and Ianto make their first public appearance at Ianto's old drama school friend Suzie's film premiere.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: it's (not) all an act [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927099
Comments: 16
Kudos: 62
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: Bingo Fest 2020





	perfect premiere

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Zoe for editing and for the title!
> 
> I've settled on generally Tuesday or Wednesday as a posting day, and I'm gonna try to post one installation of this series a week except for certain weeks when I might have exams or am just really busy.
> 
> This knocks off three of my squares for the Torchwood Fan Fest Bingo Fest: "red" for Ianto's suit and "pink" as a generally color of romance and because there's a lot of blushing involved. And with that, I finally have a bingo!

“I look good,” comments Jack as he peers at his reflection in the mirror, twisting and turning to catch himself at every angle. He smirks. His reflection smirks back. “To be fair, I always do.”

Designed by Guleraana Arbid, an up-and-coming designer known by Yvonne Hartman, Jack’s tuxedo is simple but classic - a crisp white dress shirt tucked into deep blue wool trousers that cling to Jack’s legs. A jacket of the same color buttons at Jack’s waist, with a thin silver pin that slides onto one of the wide lapels. Jack’s favorite silver airplane cufflinks hold the sleeves together at his wrists, and there’s an azure-colored silk bow tie knotted around Jack’s neck. Smart black Oxfords complete the sophisticated look. 

“Gwen?” Jack asks, eyes not lifting from the mirror where he can see her busy with her smartphone behind him. “Thoughts?”

She looks up and offers him a pleased smile, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. “You always look handsome, Jack. Do you really need to ask?”

“Yes,” Jack replies, preening. His makeup and hair is already perfectly done, and he doesn’t want to mess around too much for fear of ruining the work. He glances down at the silver watch on his wrist. Time is ticking closer to the premiere. “Where is Ianto?”

“Ianto is right behind you,” replies the other man as he steps into the room, followed by Guleraana. 

Jack whirls around, and his mouth goes dry as he lays eyes on Ianto, breath catching. 

Ianto’s tuxedo is an exact copy of Jack’s except it’s colored a deep red with his lapel and bow tie a darker burgundy. His Oxfords are brown; the pin on his lapel and his cufflinks are gold and glint in the fluorescent light of the room as Ianto tugs at his cuffs. His hair is perfectly coiffed, and Jack wouldn’t mind dragging his fingers through it. 

It’s probably soft and silky to touch.

Ianto’s brows quirk. “So do I look presentable to you?”

“Very,” Jack rasps. At the sound of Jack’s voice, something dark flickers Ianto’s piercing blue eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it appears. Jack doesn’t mind; he could stand here peering at Ianto’s eyes, into Ianto’s eyes, all day.

“Excuse me?” Gwen clears her throat with a sudden cough, and both men startle slightly. She says, “I believe it’s time to get going unless you’d like to be late for your premiere.”

Head tilted, Ianto glances down at his own watch. “Oh, yes, you’re right.” He glances back up, a little sheepish. “Suzie won’t be pleased if I show up late, especially after I promised to be there.” He looks pointedly at Jack, who rolls his eyes. “She’s a great stickler for time.”

“Oh,” Gwen says darkly, “most of us are. I just don’t think Jack here understands the concept of time.”

Judging by her glare, Jack wonders if he should start sleeping with a knife under his pillow.

* * *

Ianto must have been downscaling just how popular and well-rated his friend Suzie’s film’s been doing because when their limo pulls into the drop-off line before the red carpet, there are already several expensive cars ahead of them. 

“‘A bit of a splash,’ you said,” remarks Jack, grinning as Ianto glowers at him. “At this rate, we’ll have to wait half an hour before we get dropped out. Red carpets are notoriously slow.”

Ianto sighs. “I didn’t exactly look up reviews online before this; I was only going off of what Suzie said.” Then he smiles slightly himself. “Although, if it’s really gotten this popular, I’m proud of her. She deserves the attention. She was always so precise and demanding in drama school. Willing to do whatever it took for the perfect shot.”

“Sounds like someone you’d be friends with,” Jack mutters and receives a stern look in response. He holds up his hands. “Just saying, you’re very particular. It’s a compliment. I like how particular you are.”

The other man huffs, shoulders slumping. “Is there something about me you  _ don’t _ like?”

Jack shakes his head. “No,” he says soberly. “I like you, Ianto Jones. I like every single thing about you.”

Blushing brightly, Ianto ducks his head, muttering his thanks, and they lapse into a comfortable silence as they wait.

Thankfully, the queue of cars moves much faster than they expect, and it’s not long before their limo reaches the front. A red carpet attendee tugs the door open, and straightening the front of his tux, Ianto slides out. Jack can already hear the excited cries of the crowd and the continuous pop of the cameras. 

He smiles. Ianto is a prominent stage actor in his own right and considering this is still a bit of an indie film, it makes sense he’d be well-known to the crowd.

Shoulders setting, Jack steels himself but still isn’t quite prepared for the explosion of sound and the blinding camera flashes as he emerges behind Ianto. He waves and smiles brightly at the fans as he follows the attendant, discreetly nudging forward Ianto, who has gone slightly stiff. 

As they arrive before the publicity backdrops, Jack noting in amusement the varying sponsors for the film, he tangles his fingers with Ianto’s, pulling the other man closer. Their hands fit perfectly together, Ianto’s skin soft and warm against Jack’s.

“Ever done a red carpet before?” he whispers to Ianto from behind his picture-perfect smile.

Ianto’s reply is strained: “What do you think I am?  _ A novice? _ ” His smile, a witty slight quirk, doesn’t belie the nerves he’s likely feeling. “I’ve done a few. It never gets any easier.”

In front of the largest bunch of paparazzi and their cameras, Jack drops Ianto’s hand and slides an arm around his waist. They pose like that, still grinning, and he can feel Ianto relax slightly into his grasp.

“You’re lucky there are no reporters,” he tells Ianto, and he can feel the other man’s body heat despite the thick wool of their tuxedos. “Red carpet interviews are always unnecessarily stressful.”

Ianto doesn’t reply, likely too busy picturing that prospective horror.

When Jack glances ahead, he notices Gwen waving at him frantically from the end of the red carpet, though he has no idea how she got there. 

She’s trying to mouth something at him, lips parting quickly as she gestures from Jack to Ianto with her hands. He strains his gaze, but he still can’t make out what it is she’s trying to say. Finally, she rolls her eyes and lifts her phone. 

A moment later, his own phone vibrates in his pocket, and he turns to the side as if whispering into Ianto’s ear to discreetly check it.

_ Kiss him! _ reads Gwen’s message, and Jack feels his heart stutter a beat.

“Sorry about this,” he says quietly, meeting Ianto’s curious eyes. He leans in, gently cupping Ianto’s cheek, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb, and kisses Ianto.

The roaring of the crowd fades away as Ianto’s lips part willing under the pressure of Jack’s mouth. They are just as soft as they looked.

As they kiss, a bubble of warmth grows in Jack’s chest, a light and fizzy feeling like champagne dancing across his tongue. It is eventually overtaken by the slight burning of his lungs and the need to breathe.

When Jack steps back, Ianto stares back, bewildered, lips still parted. The crowd is screaming, even wilder than ever.

Then the attendant, waiting impatiently in the background, whistles sharply, and the moment is gone. When Jack scowls at her, she gestures for them to proceed. Quietly, Jack and Ianto follow.

Gwen is no longer there when they reach the end of the red carpet, and Jack doubts he’ll see her again until the premiere has ended.

Within minutes, they enter the actual theater, which Jack sizes up with a quick glance. It’s decently large, with plush seats mostly already filled by people in formalwear. The attendant ushers them into seats in the first few rows, and then the theater darkens. It’s time for the film to begin.

_ The Resurrection Gauntlet  _ is a haunted tale about a skeptic journalist who stumbles onto a medieval metal glove during one of her assignments before discovering its ability to resurrect the dead, as the title implies. The protagonist grows addicted to the power of the glove, forges a knife from the same metal, and becomes a serial killer, reviving her own victims. 

It’s dark and twisted, and Jack watches every moment with bated breath. When he occasionally glances over to Ianto, he finds the other man’s eyes rapt on the screen, lips twitching. As the credits roll, Jack rises to his feet along with Ianto and the rest of the theater, both men clapping enthusiastically. 

“Told you she was good,” Ianto says with a slight smirk.

“I never doubted you,” replies Jack in a hushed voice. He thinks he’ll be having nightmares about that glove tonight.

* * *

“Ianto Jones,” comes a chastising even voice as Ianto and Jack chat quietly at their table during the afterparty. “I didn’t expect you, of all people, to be late to the premiere.”

Suzie Costello is dark-eyed and sharp-featured with thick curly hair coiled into a bun and wearing a sharp suit. She accepts Ianto’s offered hug with a wide spread of her arms before pressing a kiss to his cheek, lips turned up into a dangerous smile.

“I didn’t mean to,” admits Ianto, his own eyes twinkling with mischief. He’s obviously excited to see his friend. “Blame Jack.”

Suddenly, Jack finds himself under Suzie’s sharp gaze.

“Jack Harkness,” she says. “Now here’s a face you see every day.”

He grins toothily, firmly shaking the hand she extends to him. “Can’t blame the paparazzi for wanting to take shots of my beautiful face.”

She hums, head cocked. “Those tabloids don’t exaggerate your ego.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “Again, they love me.” He can sense how inches away, Ianto has stiffened slightly with tension. “Besides, I’ve heard enough about you from Ianto.”

Ianto chuckles faintly, but Suzie glances between the two of them, brow furrowing. “I didn’t know that the two of you knew each other that well.”

“We’ve become close in the last year,” Jack says diplomatically. Suzie’s gaze lingers on him long enough for him to want to bristle.

Before Jack can change the subject by congratulating Suzie on her film, Ianto steps forward and presses comfortably into Jack’s side. “Jack here is actually my boyfriend,” he says with just the right hint of pride.

Suzie does a double-take between Jack and Ianto, one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows lifting skeptically. “Since when?” she asks, tone indecipherable. 

“Since a few months ago, actually,” Jack replies, pressing a quick kiss to Ianto’s cheek. Ianto blushes again. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, darling,” Ianto says, sliding a tight arm around Jack’s waist to tug him impossibly closer. Jack thinks he can still detect a bit of Ianto’s usual droll beneath all the saccharine in his voice. 

“You certainly seem happy,” says Suzie finally with just a slight smile, which Jack returns. “I’m pleased for you, Ianto.” Someone calls her name from across the room, and she nods at them before facing Jack and Ianto again. “It was nice to meet you, Jack. Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jack calls after her as she strides away. “I loved your film!”

Hearing that, she glances back and winks at him.

“Yeah...so that was Suzie,” Ianto says. He stares at Jack, eyes a bit wide, fingers fiddling with his sleeves again. Jack’s noticed that it’s a discreet habit of his.

“She’s quite a person.” Jack laughs, reaching for his abandoned glass of champagne on the table. By now, it’s gone flat. He trades it out for a fresh glass from the tray of a passing server. “You want anything?” he asks Ianto.

The other man shakes his head in refusal before continuing, “I promise Suzie grows on you.” 

He seems like he’s going to add something, but before he can, they’re approached by a gorgeous woman Jack vaguely recognizes from another indie movie and swept into a long conversation. In fact, that’s how the rest of the night passes. Every time he or Ianto, or both of them, find themselves with a moment to breathe, they are quickly cornered by another celebrity who wants to congratulate them or chat with them on their new relationship.

Their ruse works like a charm, which Jack can scarcely believe. He knew he and Ianto were good actors, but he didn’t think they’d be able to fool so many people. He believes that it’s partly because they work so well together that everything feels natural. When the conversation falters, Ianto smoothly picks it back up or redirects it. He laughs at all of Jack’s jokes, even the most sexually explicit, but also shoots him pointed glances when Jack’s gone a bit far. Similarly, Jack is able to sense when Ianto’s patience is waning for their current conversationalists and bring their discussions to a close or apologizing before guiding Ianto away.

They almost feel like partners, in every way.

Jack’s almost disappointed when the night draws to a close; he’s been having so much fun, but he can sense his energy flagging and even Ianto’s starting to look a bit droopy-eyed. Any buzz from the alcohol they’ve both been sipping through the party has long since faded.

“Time to go,” Ianto tells him, barely stifling a yawn. “Yvonne texted me that the limo’s outside.”

Nodding, Jack follows Ianto outside. The nighttime air is chilly, and despite the thick wool of Jack’s tux, he shivers. If he were still slightly tipsy, he would have sobered up immediately.

There are still some paparazzi outside, hoping to catch some shots of the partygoers leaving. Jack nods at a few and waves.

“You have to admire their persistence,” he notes to Ianto, but Ianto, gazing around him, is not listening. Jack chuckles and takes a few steps forward.

“Wait, wait.” Ianto takes a hurried step to him, grabs him by the lapel, and yanks him for a kiss that leaves Jack breathlessly and wide-eyed. Ianto’s mouth is warm on his, and then, a few moments later, Ianto’s gone, standing several inches away.

“What was that for?” asks Jack, his thoughts a fuzzy mess. Belatedly, he realizes he can hear the pop of cameras still going off behind them.

Ianto shrugs, eyes clear and bright under the streetlight. “Just cause,” he says. “Thought we should mess with the paparazzi a little.” Then he turns and walks towards the limo.

Dazedly, Jack follows, lips slowly tugging into a smirk.

_ Oh, Ianto Jones,  _ he thinks.  _ This is going to be fun. _

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik). I tweet and reblog mostly Torchwood with occasionally amusing commentary on nonsense. Please come talk to me and tell me if/how much you like my fic or like ask me about it on tumblr; all my schoolwork has become remote now, and I have limited social interaction. And if you have any future ideas for this potential verse or something you'd like to see, drop it in the comments!


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